


Alcohol Doesn't Look Good On You

by baguette_avocat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically, Big Brother Shiro (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Childhood Friends, Help, I Don't Even Know, I make no promises, I'm Bad At Tagging, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Kick, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Lance (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, basically they're not paladins, eventually, i guess, i'm trying to think ahead here, kind of i mean, klance centric, possibly, they're both idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:37:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16000988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baguette_avocat/pseuds/baguette_avocat
Summary: Keith mentally cursed himself for being so stupid. He was only sixteen. He had no right to be Lance’s babysitter. He was only a year and a half older, for crying out loud. And what was he even here for? To watch Lance, a fourteen year old, try and fail at wooing a junior? Why was Keith so stupid?





	1. The Party

**Author's Note:**

> I hate to be that guy but this is my first (posted) fic so don't be too harsh I guess.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> (Also I know it's really short but um this seemed like a good place to cut it off for ao3 chapter purposes. Sorry folks.)

Keith wasn’t really all too sure why he’d agreed to coming to this stupid party. No, wait. He did remember. But he hated himself for it. He looked at his water bottle with exhaustion and tried not to replay the conversation in his head again for the ten hundredth time that hour.

_“Ashley invited us to her brother’s party tonight. Allura’s gonna be there.”_

_“Lance, I’m sixteen. Pidge and Hunk are fifteen. You’re fourteen.”_

_“So? It’ll be fun, Mullet.”_

_“Isn’t Ashley’s brother a senior? There’s gonna be drinking.”_

_“Well then we just won’t drink. Easy peasy.”_

    Keith huffed, looking up and seeing Lance talking to Allura with a grin. Keith reminded himself that the only reason Lance wanted to go to the party was because of Allura. That was it. Keith mentally shook off the reminder that Lance was the only reason Keith agreed to go.

_“Well, you can’t go alone, Lance. You’re fourteen, remember?”_

_“Yeah, yeah. I think Matt's gonna be there, too.”_

_“Matt doesn’t count.”_

_“I’m still gonna go.”_

_“Then I’m going too.”_

    Keith mentally cursed himself for being so stupid. He was only fourteen. He had no right to be Lance’s babysitter. He was only a year and a half older, for crying out loud. And what was he even here for? To watch Lance, a fourteen year old, try and fail at wooing a junior? Why was Keith so stupid?

_“But you just said-”_

_“Well it doesn’t matter. You can’t go alone so I’ll go with you.”_

    Keith shook himself out of his thoughts again to find Lance frowning. Another guy was also next to Allura. Lotor, if Keith remembered correctly. Were him and Allura together? By the lovey-dovey way they were looking at each other, Keith would say yes. Keith watched as Lance faked a smile, said something, and then left.

    Keith’s eyes widened. Lance left. Lance left the area, or the room, or something, because Keith couldn’t see him anywhere. He straightened up, his crippling social anxiety suddenly gone as he marched up to Allura.

    “Where did Lance go?”

    “He said he was going to the kitchen. Why?”

    “Thanks.”

    Keith left for the kitchen even as Allura began speaking to him again. She didn’t need to know why. She could figure it out on her own. Keith cursed at how large the house was. There were at least two hallways he had to go through to get to the kitchen. He pushed past people who smelled of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

_“You didn’t have to come with me, you know.”_

_“It’s fine.”_

_“It’s not. Sorry we have to walk.”_

_“It’s only five minutes. It won’t hurt.”_

    Keith found Lance in the kitchen, a cup in his hand, a dense crowd of drunk seniors not but a few feet away. Lance, upon seeing Keith, smiled lazily. Keith was about to ask why he had run off when he saw that there was a non-clear liquid in Lance’s cup.

    “Is that beer?”

    Lance didn’t answer. Instead, he took a mouthful of the drink and swallowed. Keith frowned. What was Lance doing? Lance wasn’t a rule follower, by any means, but he never did anything drastic. Drinking was one of the things Lance promised he wouldn’t do. The words replayed in his head, over and over.

_“Keith, man, quit worrying. I won’t drink. It’s not that hard to not do something. I probably won’t even like the taste.”_

    Lance still didn’t speak. He downed the beverage and sat his cup on the counter next to him. Keith began to panic. He shouldn’t have been able to drink that so easily. How many had he had already? How long had it really taken for Keith to find Lance? Had he zoned out as Lance had left? Was that why he hadn’t remembered which way Lance had gone?

    “Lance. Talk to me.”

    Lance shrugged, slow and ungraceful. “It’s just beer, Keith.” His words were slurred slightly, as if he were tired. “Everyone drinks beer before they’re legal.”

    Keith shook his head, but he couldn’t convince himself to speak. Nothing was coming out. Lance just blinked and grabbed another cup, seemingly out of nowhere. Keith’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t get himself to move to grab the cup away. Lance raised his eyebrows, as if in victory, and chugged his beer. He sat that cup down, too. Before he could grab another, Keith grabbed his wrist.

    “Lance, stop.”

   Lance looked at Keith’s hand on his wrist, an unreadable expression on his features. He looked back up at Keith’s face, still unreadable. Keith wasn’t sure what to do. Maybe he’d make Lance leave. But Lance wasn’t in any condition to face his mother. Maybe he’d make Lance stay over at his house. Shiro wouldn’t be as mad. Disappointed, but not mad.

    Lance, in that split second of Keith’s uncertainty, managed to grab another cup. By the time Keith snapped out of his own thoughts, Lance was already sitting the empty cup down. Keith cursed mentally, not bothering to say anything as he pulled Lance out of the kitchen and toward the front door.

_“Keith, it’s fine. I won’t go anywhere you can’t see.”_

_“There’s so many people, Lance. I can’t do this.”_

_“Just let me talk to her. Just for a second.”_

    Keith ignored the way that Lance didn’t fight being pulled forcefully out of the house. He ignored the way that Lance made a sound of protest as Keith let go of his wrist. He ignored the way that Lance stayed no more than two inches away from Keith as they walked. He ignored the way that Lance smelled of alcohol and cigarette smoke.


	2. Dead Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith’s answer replayed itself in his head. It was just a simple no, but it stung every time he replayed the conversation. Shiro’s disappointed gaze and pursed lips were enough to make Keith guilty. He should be guilty. He hadn’t even thought of telling Lance not to go. Maybe he should have. No, not maybe. He should have told Lance not to go. Why hadn’t he told Lance not to go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl this is lowkey filler stuff? I think? Like it's important but there's no real plot line being propelled by it. 
> 
> Also, would I be able to consider this a slow burn? I tend to want to write fluff and get to the point, but end up drawing things out and filling that extra space with angst. Not to say that it's in a way that doesn't work. I still make sure everything is pretty sound. (Sorry, I'm going off on a tangent.)
> 
> Let me know if there are any glaring mistakes! 
> 
> I actually just changed the chapter one summary because I had made it before updating, so it had the wrong ages, and I hadn't realized until just now.

Just as Keith had expected, Shiro hadn’t been mad. Shiro was, however, highly disappointed. Keith wasn’t too surprised. He’d known it would disappoint Shiro. What he hadn’t expected was who Shiro was disappointed in.

_     “Why would you let Lance go to a party when you knew there’d be drinking?” _

_     “He told me he wouldn’t drink!” _

_     “Did you try telling him not to go?” _

    Keith’s answer replayed itself in his head. It was just a simple no, but it stung every time he replayed the conversation. Shiro’s disappointed gaze and pursed lips were enough to make Keith guilty. He should be guilty. He hadn’t even thought of telling Lance not to go. Maybe he should have. No, not maybe. He should have told Lance not to go. Why hadn’t he told Lance not to go?

_     “Lance, how many did you drink?” _

_     “A few,” came Lance’s sleepy reply. _

    Keith looked at Lance, cuddling cozily on one of Keith’s bean bag chairs, and had to swallow with his jaw clenched to keep himself together. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to-

_     “You told me you wouldn’t drink.” _

_     Lance only shrugged, his movements groggy. _

_     “You’re fourteen. It’s not good for you.” _

_     “Exactly.” _

    Keith’s vision blurred, and he silently cursed himself as a small but steady stream of tears fell down his cheeks. It was his fault, really, that Lance was drunk. He should have just told Lance that he couldn’t go. It was unsafe and stupid and-

_     “Why did you drink, Lance?” _

_     “I thought that it’d help. Like everyone says it does.” _

_     “Help with what?” _

    Lance shifted in his spot. Keith wondered if Lance would fall asleep right then and there, but he was proven wrong as Lance sat up, eyes lidded. Lance blinked at Keith. Keith blinked at Lance. Lance smiled a bit. Keith’s jaw clenched even more.

_     “Help with what?” He repeated. _

_     “Life. I dunno.” _

_     “What?” _

    Lance rubbed at his eyes, mumbling to himself. Keith couldn’t even find it in him to laugh. How could he laugh? His best friend was drunk on a bean bag chair and probably hated him for letting him get like that. He was probably really mad, too. Or at least he would be mad if he could think properly.

_     “Everything sucks. Life.” _

    Lance blinked again, and Keith blinked again. Lance probably blinked because of the weird lighting in Keith’s room. Keith blinked because he was crying and he couldn’t stop it. Why was he crying? Why couldn’t he just stop? Out of all of the things Keith had to cry about, he was crying about Lance being drunk on his bean bag chair?

    Lance smiled again. “Hey.” His voice was soft.

    Keith’s jaw clenched. “Hey.” His voice was strained.

    “Why are you crying?” He sounded as if it wasn’t at all surprising, to see Keith crying.

    Keith shrugged. “This is a mess,” he said simply. “All of this.”

    Lance shrugged, his movements still sleepy. “Doesn’t matter.”

_     “Why?” _

_     “Doesn’t matter.” _

    Keith’s jaw clenched tighter. “It does matter, Lance.”

    It had been an hour since they’d arrived at Keith’s house. Keith just knew that Shiro was sitting with Adam on the couch, speaking in hushed voices about how disappointing Keith was and how they’d taught him better and what were they going to tell Lance’s parents?

    Keith inspected Lance, who hadn’t responded yet. His face was flushed still, even after an hour, and his eyes were still slightly lidded. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but he wasn’t frowning either. He was just neutral. It made Keith anxious, but he didn’t exactly know why.

    Keith got up from his spot on his bed and walked over to Lance, who watched him the whole time, emotionless. Keith plopped down on the bean bag chair next to Lance with a grunt. They weren’t as cushioned as they used to be, apparently. Keith blinked the thought away. He didn’t have time to go off on mental tangents.

    “Correct me if I’m wrong,” Keith started, watching Lance intently, “but did you really drink because Allura has a boyfriend and had to reject you?”

    Finally, Lance’s face showed emotion again. Except, it was a frown. “That’d be dumb,” he pouted.

    “Well then why?”

    Lance shrugged. “A lotta stuff.”

    Keith resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he prodded further. “What stuff?”

    Lance looked at Keith, an eyebrow raised. His eyes moved but never left Keith. Keith was trying his best to be nice, but Lance’s vague answers and indifferent attitude was starting to get to him. But Keith knew what Lance was doing, and he didn’t want to rush him. Lance was, Keith hoped, sober enough now to realize that he needed to be thinking and not just spewing whatever came to mind first.

    Lance locked eyes with Keith before he spoke. “I go through crap just like you, Keith.”

    Keith wanted to shake Lance until he was sober again. “Could you be any less specific?”

    Lance huffed, but it somehow didn’t sound annoyed. “I’m going through some stuff right now, man. Don’t wanna talk about it.”

    Keith didn’t respond. He could respect Lance not wanting to talk, but Keith wasn’t going to let him off easy like that. He still had a lot of questions; questions that he was too afraid to ask outright. He needed time to think, without Lance right next to him. He heard Shiro call his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for such short chapters, but it's what's keeping me thinking and to the plot line I'm wanting.
> 
> Again, check out my tumblr if you want! I'm baguette_avocat (:

**Author's Note:**

> If you want, you can go to my tumblr at www.tumblr.com/blog/baguette-avocat (:


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